


simon || lord of the flies

by kevkyu



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: M/M, So do I, over thinking, ralph misses simon, the fic no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 06:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15018884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kevkyu/pseuds/kevkyu
Summary: simonthe boy who struggled, yet always had so much love for everyone, even if they wronged him.





	simon || lord of the flies

when the savages had smoked ralph out, and he ran into the man who had turned out to be their rescuer, he should have been relieved, but a wave of guilt and scaredness washed over him. the fragile choir boy who fainted in gibs, addis, the boy who was fascinated with the candle buds. simon. 

ralph closed his eyes tightly, he held a newspaper that had been printed nearly over a year ago to his chest, just at hardly over the age of thirteen, he had experienced so much horror and pain. he lost the one person who truly was too good, too pure, who actually deserved the title of 'angel' in the most gruesome way possible, and he had taken part in... in simon's murder. murder, that's what it was, even if it was not on purpose. 

he cringed as the train came to a harsh stop on the tracks, signaling that he was now at his stop. with a deep breath, he stood up and held the newspaper tighter, not daring to look down at the paper that read in bold letters, ' **18** **BOYS FOUND ALIVE, TWO DEAD!** ', stepping out of the train, he looked to the school where he'd be giving a speech about his time on the island. he looked down at the paper and crumpled it. two evil people were let back into civilization. he let out a shaky breath, as a mental image flashed in his head of the sadistic grin on jack merridew's freckled covered face when he got smoked out of the thicket bush. it was haunting, even more so than the sick, twisted smile on roger's face as he pushed the boulder onto the asthmatic spec wearer. shivering violently, he walked the long cobbled sidewalk that leads to the glass entrance of the huge college.

he felt small, walking past everyone in the hallway who seemed to know him instantly, tipping his head down timidly, he let his blond bangs fall out of place. his chest hurt and throbbed, he could hear simon's soft, kind voice echoing in his ears of the, 'you'll get off this island,' and other soft, promising words he had said to him. small talk they had made when building huts, he could hear it all. he could even hear simon's melodic giggle. he wished he could see simon one last time so he could tell him how he truly felt, and so that maybe, just maybe he could stop simon's curious little self from going to find the true beastie- maybe he could prevent himself and piggy from going to that horrifying feast. simon would still be alive today, his body wouldn't be washing up on shore in god knows where... maybe, maybe he could tell him that he truly didn't think he was batty. that he understood that he had an uncontrollable disease. 

as he stepped into the auditorium and onto the stage, holding onto the newspaper, letting the stage lights hit him with scrunched up eyes. after a couple minutes, his eyes grew adjusted and he cleared his throat. "my name is ralph, i am 13-years-old, many of you may recognize me as the crying boy in the picture, hardly any clothes and face covered in grime from what feels like forever. today, i'm going to be talking to you people about what i experienced on that horrid, dreadful island." he begins, the heat of the bright light turning his tanned skin pinkish. 

"the day we crashed was april seventh, 1998, i was fleeing my school from the atomic war had been struck. when we first crashed that night, i was in denial, denial about what was happening back at home, and denial about there being no adults. at first, it was fine, even a bit fun! to be able to stay up as late as i wanted, to stand on my head and have fun with my- the friends i used to have back when i was still the head of my football team. soon, i met my friend piggy... he was one of the boys who was killed. i regret not letting him tell me his real name, i was an arrogant shit." he thoughtfully says, taking a large deep breath to calm his nerves. talking about piggy was always hard, if he wouldn't have been so full of himself, he would have known the boy's real name... but now, the spec wearer had died with the name that brought him shame and pain. it was his fault, and it hurt to know that. 

he heard soft gasps and whispers, but continued on, "he was the brains and i was the face, i was the chief... i wanted nothing more but to keep us all safe and get us off the island and back home. but, of course, things could never be that simple, jack merridew, the boy with the puffed up chest and disgusting animalistic face paint in the picture... made it so hard. he was the head choir boy," just saying the word choir instantly brought him to see simon fainting on that hot, hot, day. a bitter smile rose on his face, "he could sing a c# so obviously, he was better than all of us biggun's and littun's combined." he says, teeth grating against each other as he took a deep breath, "but he wasn't chosen as cheif, and it angered him to no ends... he became hunting obsessed... one day, i honestly don't know what day, but a plane had flown over the island... our fire that we had built as a signal was out... the choir boys were supposed to be watching it. they- the choir boys, or hunters, were in charge of the signal." he tells the crowd.

"if we had gotten that planes attention that day, maybe, just maybe, simon would be alive today, maybe piggy would be alive today... maybe i wouldn't-" he stopped as a hand politely raised in the air, as if they were in school.

"yes?" ralph points to the man with his hand raise, who coughs a little before speaking, "i have been a to a couple of your talks, but one thing that always leaves me confused and curious is, who is simon? why is he so important to you?" he asks, and ralph blinks in surprise as he slowly nods with a sigh, "i suppose it's time to open about simon." he says. 

"simon was a choir boy, he was sick too... i didn't find that out till after his murder... he was always so kind and sweet to everyone, even if they were mean to him. he was scared of the other choir boys, and even me and piggy at times. he had the most beautiful green eyes you could ever see.. and his smile, his smile was so cute. i can still see him when i close my eyes. he helped me with the shelters- and he encouraged me when i felt like giving up. he was fascinated with the candle bud flowers, he was the closest thing to an angel the world had ever seen," his voice breaks as he speaks, pent up sadness and hurt spilling out.

"he didn't deserve the way that he died- i was involved... i beat myself up everyday for it. simon was the one boy who truly deserved to get off that island and go home to his family, he should be here today, with me, so we could both tell the story... knowing him, he'd blush and shy away, probably hide behind this stand, he was that small." he says, "i think at this point, i can finally say that i loved him... i loved simon with my whole heart."


End file.
